Beeps and Buzzes

🌍 ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 ✓

Describing this carpool ride across country as 'suffocating' would be a colossal understatement. You weren't talking about the heat, neither.

Everyone was tired. Everyone was hungry. Nobody was having a fun time. You'd snapped at Leo, now that was a whole mess waiting to be cleaned up. Sam was doing this teeth-grinding thing unintentionally peeving off Mikaela, who in kind relentlessly huffed.

By blind miracle you'd stumbled across a Gas Station to tend to necessities, yet even then nobody was exactly feeling those rumoured 'good vibes' teens in movies experienced on life changing road trips.

You knew you definately weren't.

Doubly so after Leo rejoined you all in Bees Alt mode.

He'd point blank refused to re-enter Mudflaps cabin after the Mech had relentlessly teased him. Initially seeking knowledge of Cybertron, space travel, or Greys... Turned out he'd signed up for was a two hour long roasting session, receiving a kick to an already fragile ego.

To save face, energy and oxygen you tapped out pretty quickly. Mind fading into a beautiful blank slate, an endless void of nothingness offering a brief reprieve from all that failed you.

Then you woke up, slumped against Bees door. Drooling a little. Snoring, possibly. Nobody looked comfortable, or indeed faced you at all, implying that whilst unconscious you managed to further ruin their morning.

Transitioning from tarmac to cobbles, a new area was reached. Some small reclusive town, or a dower part of a greater city. Dogs here, pedestrians there, multitude of side streets and back alleyways that looked deceptively small.

Kneading into your shoulder as an aggressive knot developed from being situated in such an awkward position, allowing all conversation to simply wash over you.

Up until Leo elbowed you.

"-- we revenge-hacked this site, and maybe I saw some of your alien symbols or whatever"

Brows scrunched, pausing in your pampering, head tilting just enough to imply confusion without having to admit to being forgetful.

Luckily, Leo could take a hint. Or invitation for some self-flattery.

"y'know, when we were called dumbasses for posting apparently fake evidence and wanted to expose him as a fraud? We spent, like, two days straight in my parents basement"

Soft noise of understanding proceeding this recognition as you recalled it vividly. Okay. Not in entirety, but Leo's family were celebrating someone's birthday and you three that weren't blood related essentially party crashed.

Best cake you'd ever had, FYI.

Questions answered, one by one you slowly vacated Bees cabin. Initially thinking that, hey, you were just going to march up to somebodies door and knock really loud. That you'd just been dropped off in front of a Deli out of convinience.

But no. Your guy? He was a Butcher. One of those people who handled sharp cleavers for a living, with practical knowledge on how to swiftly dissect an animal!

"Oh you've got to be -- nope. No, this may as well happen. Star Wars to Texas Chainsaw Massacre, why not"

Catching your snide comment, rather than dismiss or perhaps attempt to show support, grimaced "Hey, man. Can you not say this just as we're about to interrupt Thomas Hewitt"

Peeling your eyes away from a particularly sombre shop front, stomaching your own reservations. Peeling your eyes away, just to wonder why there were so many posters just plastered onto the wall.